Soap Pie
by Lirael Astarael
Summary: ONE-SHOT After carefully observing (ahem) a row between Ron and Hermione, Fred and George concoct an evil plan...and a pie. A sniff of HarryGinny and, of course, the odor of pie. (first FF, constructive criticism welcome and needed)


**This story is dedicated to my amazingly corking cousin Pye and her dear friend, the infamous and bubbly, Soap.**

**_SOAP PIE_**

"BLOODY HE—"

"Watch your language Ron Weasley!"

"RONALD IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU NEVER PAY ATTENTION IN HISTORY OF MAGIC!"

"AND IT'S NOT MY BLOODY FAULT YOU WON'T HELP ME WITH MY ESSAY HERMIONE!"

"Ron Weasley I'm warning you—"

"RONALD YOU'VE HAD ALL SUMMER!"

"HERMIONE IF YOU WOULD JUST LET ME—"

"NO RONALD!"

Fred and George watched the scene in amusement. Ron and Hermione were sitting across from each other at the wooden table that occupied most of the space in the simple kitchen of the Burrow. They had been at each other's throats since the beginning of breakfast (which consisted mainly of chocolate chip toast with marmalade and banana juice in case you were wondering). Fred seemed to recall that the blazing row before him at begun at a completely tactless comment by that idiot brother of his. _I believe Ron called Hermione an insufferable know-it-all. Blimey, I didn't even know "insufferable" was in his vocabulary!_ Fred glanced at Ginny and Harry. They were wolfing down their breakfasts and occasionally shooting a look at the quarrelers down the table. Obviously they hoped to be out of the warzone as soon as possible.

"IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A SODDING—"

"RONALD WEASLEY THAT IS ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley exploded. Her carrot-colored hair contrasted sharply with her brilliantly red face.

"But Mum—"

"YOU'D BETTER JUST SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE BEFORE I GET OUT MY BAR OF _SCOURGY'S SCOURGIFYING SOAP_ AND WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT!"

Ron's mouth snapped shut. He glared at Hermione, who stuck her tongue out at him in return. Ron snatched a last piece of toast and stormed out of the room, muttering something that sounded like "Loganiipoohead".

Fred and his twin chuckled and Mrs. Weasley spun around to face them. In response to her less-than-friendly look, the troublesome two made puppy dog faces. It was a well-known fact that Mrs. Weasley could not resist their puppy faces. It was in her motherly nature to help the pitiful. Fred and George had learned this at a very early age and regularly use it to their advantage. She chucked a nearby doorknob after them for good measure and Fred winced in pain as it struck his head. George doubled over laughing.

Once Mrs. Weasley had turned back to her cooking, the boys relaxed and Fred checked up on Harry and Ginny. They had long since fled the room and only a sulking bushy-haired Hermione remained. George motioned to him to follow him up to their room so they could continue working on their latest concoctions.

"Sooo…" George began.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," Fred said. His look changed to one of complete concentration and soon he and George were in full plotting mode. _Hmmm…new kinds of Puking Pastilles? No…some fake wands that turn into doorknobs? No, that's too dangerous_, he thought, rubbing the bump on his head.

"I suppose we could always make Peacock Pastries," he said aloud.

"Nah…we've already got Canary Creams," George said after a minute of thought, "What about a new variety of dungbombs? Perhaps, let's say…skunkbombs?"

"I don't know about you my friend, but I'd rather not go chasing after a skunk at the moment."

"Ah. Excellent point."

_WAAAAIT a second,_ Fred thought excitedly. The episode at breakfast flashed into his evil mind. _"YOU'D BETTER JUST SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE BEFORE I GET OUT MY BAR OF SCOURGY'S SCOURGIFYING SOAP AND WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT!"_

"That's it!" he cried.

"Eh?"

_Ron's foul language…soap…pie-hole…Mum's mercy for years of pranks to come…AHA! Brilliant! I am amazing! I am beautiful! I am a banana!_ Fred cried silently in exultation. _Did I just call myself a banana? Hmmm…_

"George," he said with a wolfish grin, "George, my dear, I have an idea."

_...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..._

"Fred, I do believe this is the best meal we've served our unsuspecting victims since that chunky juice two weeks ago."

"Indeed. Is it done?"

George put on purple oven mitts decorated with carrots and pulled their creation out of the small oven the twins stored in their room. The oven buzzed slightly and emitted a seafoam green cloud of smoke. Fred cackled when he saw their masterpiece. It smelled clean and faintly of fresh pines. A few orange bubbles rose from it and floated lazily around the room, popping randomly.

"It's beautiful," he sighed.

"Yup."

Fred gazed at it for another few minutes, before George snapped him back into reality. "This is no time to frolic with fluffy puppies in pie land Fred! There is still work to be done! Do you honestly think Ron will willingly eat our pie with it looking like this?"

Fred squinted at the pie. _He has a point._

"That's what I thought. Now what kind of pie does Ron like?"

"Um…every kind that's edible…"

"Yes, well…"

"He seems to really find peach pie appetizing though," Fred said thoughtfully, fingering the chipped wooden post of his bed that had the words "Angelina Weasley" carved into them. He shook his head to clear his mind and looked back up at George.

"Perfect. Fred would you mind going downstairs and filling Mum in while I cast a Disillusionment Charm on Ronald's dessert?"

"Oi! I'm not going down there! Mum will bite my head off faster than you can say 'Loganiipoohead'!" he exclaimed.

"Lohany wha—?"

"Never mind. Something I heard Ron say earlier. As I was saying, YOU are going down into the dragon's den, not me."

"What did I do to deserve that?"

"Nothing. It's just that I don't want to and since I'm the mastermind of this, what I say goes, remember? It's rule #276 of that handbook on pranking Sirius gave us. Look it up if you don't believe me."

George walked to the dresser the twins shared and opened the drawer where they kept _The Official Handbook to All Things Mischievous _by Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs He leafed through the unevenly cut pages and stopped about one-third of the way through the book. His eyes scanned the page and his face fell. Fred smirked as his brother carefully put the book back and trudged out of the room.

_...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..._

The twins made their way down the hall to dinner. Their cheeks were peachy-pink and the corners of their lips were turned up slightly in a very suspicious looking way. When they entered the kitchen, their mother gave them a small grin and a wink. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione followed them in and sat down. Ron was already seated of course, awaiting his meal patiently.

"Mum," he whined, "Hurry up. I'm gonna stick a fork through my head if you don't get food on the table within the next ten seconds!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and whispered something to Ginny, who giggled and glanced at Ron. Ron shot them his favorite look. The infamous glare.

"Now dear, I'm sure you wouldn't want to do that, what with the peach pie I made for us to have after dinner," she said, her eyes sparkling.

_My mum is beautiful,_ thought Fred happily, _beautiful like a banana._ He smacked his head at the banana thought and George looked at him worriedly.

"Pie? We're having pie? All right then," Ron perked up a bit and remained quiet until Mrs. Weasley served his dinner moments later.

When the group had finished their dinner, Mrs. Weasley excused herself from the table. Ron watched her exit in anticipation.

"I hope she went to get the pie. I'm starving," he said.

"Ron you just ate!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"So?"

"You can't be starving if you just ate!"

"Actually Hermione," came Harry's voice, "In Ron's case, you can." Ginny snorted.

"Never underestimate the capacity of Ron Weasley's stomach," Ginny said solemnly, trying to keep a straight face. Hermione sniffed disapprovingly and opened her mouth to retort.

"Ah. Mum. How really corking to see you," Fred cut in, preventing several headaches. Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows at him. "Wonderful timing I might add—"

"Truly impeccable timing," said George in her ear. Her mouth formed an "O" shape as she realized what they meant.

"PIE!" Ron cheered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron glared. Harry smirked. Ginny giggled.

"Yes dear, pie. Honestly, there's no need to state the obvious. It just gets irritating and causes headaches," Mrs. Weasley scolded. Harry and Ginny snorted simultaneously, glanced at each other, and fell into crazy fits of laughter. Hermione grinned. Ron glared.

"Well, _Mum,_" George pressed, "I believe you have some pie to serve?"

"Oh yes, of course," she said somewhat flustered. She cut a large slice and placed it on a blue plate, which she set in front of Ron.

"Dig in!" she smiled and tucked her hands in the pockets of her apron.

Harry, Ginny, and Hermione looked at Mrs. Weasley. She winked and hummed a bit.

"Mum," Ginny asked tentatively, "Pie?"

"Yes. It is pie."

"No, Mum. I mean, may I have some?"

"Of course not."

"What?" the pie-less children chorused unhappily.

"Trust me Gin. You don't need any of this pie," she said.

At this, Ginny's eyes welled up with tears and she shot out of her seat, a concerned Harry right behind her. When they had almost reached the door, Fred and George held out their hands. Ginny tried to push past, but Fred wouldn't let her. As she struggled to get free, he winked and gave her an evil smile.

"Believe me, Gin. You'll want to be here for the festivities."

George smirked. "Only a moment more…he's almost to the crust…"

Ginny and Harry spun around just in time to see Ron gag and start foaming at the mouth. He started to run around the room screaming incoherently. Orange bubbles were flying everywhere.

The whole kitchen erupted with laughter. Fred and George smiled proudly and patted each other on the back. Ginny and Harry were leaning on each other for support as they roared with laughter. Hermione tried to shoot a displeased look at the twins, but failed miserably when she started to snicker upon seeing Ron try to wash his mouth out with water.

Fred sniggered. "Oi Ron! We thought we'd mention—"

"—that only makes it worse!" George finished, clutching his sides with laughter.

_...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..._

An hour later, when Ron was finally cleaned up and he and Harry were off playing a brutal game of Wizard's Chess—Hermione and Ginny were watching, both cheering for Harry as Hermione had yet to forgive Ron for the row at breakfast—Fred and George popped open a couple of butterbeers and had a toast.

"To another brilliant bit of mischief perfectly executed—"

"—and to many more to come!"

They clinked bottles and took a few swigs, watching their father curiously as he tried to use the pie dish to conduct electricity into one of his plugs. _Ah, yes. Everything is as it should be. Beautiful as a banana._

**THE END!**


End file.
